The skies above Achlys's fortress darken, twisting with violent energy as Yuma steps forward, his eyes focused on the storm swirling around him. The wind howls, debris swirling in the gusts as thunder rumbles overhead. Achlys, now fully integrated with the storm, emerges from the clouds, his form crackling with electricity, tendrils of lightning snaking out from his body.
"You can't win, Alien King," Achlys's voice thunders, as his figure flickers between human and storm, as if the elements themselves had given him shape.
"You're just a man. I am a force of nature." Yuma clenches his fists, unphased.
"I've faced storms before. You're just another one to break." With that, Achlys surges forward, the air splitting with his speed. Yuma braces himself, but the impact is fierce—Achlys crashes into him like a hurricane, a massive fist made of clouds and lightning slamming into Yuma's guard.
Yuma slides back across the stone floor, his arms shaking from the raw force. Yuma jumps to the side and kicks Achlys, but his foot goes right through him. Yuma grits his teeth, spinning midair and thrusting his fist.
"Reality manipulation: Re-Pulse!"
Yuma punches the air as it cracks like glass, sending Achlys sliding back.
The winds around them slow, the lightning flickers, and the heavy gusts become manageable. He steps forward, distorting space around him to bend the very air Achlys commands. Reeling his fist back and punches a ripple through the storm, distorting its flow, but Achlys merely laughs.
"You think you can reshape the wind?" Achlys taunts, disappearing into the storm again.
"I am the wind!" Suddenly, Achlys reappears from behind, striking Yuma with a bolt of lightning from point-blank range. Yuma barely dodges in time, but the electricity grazes his arm, sending a painful jolt through his body. Achlys laughs, his voice echoing in the thunder.
"You're too slow. You're fighting nature itself, and nature is relentless!" Yuma grits his teeth, his body trembling from the shock, but his resolve doesn't waver.
"I don't care how relentless you are," Yuma mutters, his eyes glowing with the power of his mantra.
"Reality bends to me." Yuma clenches his fist, seemingly grabbing the air as if it was fabric, tightly ripping it like a blanket. The battlefield warps, creating a disorienting illusion of multiple realities layered over one another. Achlys stumbles as the environment shifts—walls stretch, the ground twists, and even the storm he commands begins to unravel.
Yuma jumps forward, using the debris as skipping stones and jumping in front of Achlys. Instantly delivering a series of rapid punches to Achlys's abdomen, each one vibrating with distorted energy. Achlys grunts as Yuma's blows land, his stormy form flickering with instability. But Achlys recovers quickly, his eyes blazing with fury.
"Enough games!" he roars, summoning a massive tornado that engulfs the entire battlefield. Yuma is swept off his feet, caught in the violent winds. The tornado spins faster and faster, pulling Yuma higher into the air as Achlys's laughter echoes all around him. Smiling from the ground. The storm lord's voice booms above the wind,
"You can't fight the storm forever… It will tear you apart." Inside the spinning vortex, Yuma struggles to maintain control, feeling his mantra's energy being drained. He closes his eyes, focusing. With a surge of determination, he manipulates reality once more, slowing the tornado's rotation. The winds ease, allowing Yuma to regain his balance mid-air. In an instant, he reverses the flow of the storm, using Achlys's own power against him.
Achlys gasps as the winds suddenly shift, spinning back toward him. Yuma bursts out of the center of the tornado, his eyes burning with power as he delivers a crushing axe kick to his head that sends Achlys crashing back to the ground.
The storm momentarily dissipates, and Achlys, now in his human form, staggers to his feet, glaring at Yuma with unbridled hatred. Yuma dominantly standing above.
"You've done well to last this long," Achlys growls, his voice low and venomous. Yuma continues.
"But it's over now." Yuma pauses when Achlys raises both hands to the sky, and the heavens answer. A monstrous storm cloud forms above them, larger than anything before. Lightning strikes the ground with deafening force, and the winds howl like banshees. Achlys begins to merge with the storm, his body transforming into a dark, swirling vortex of lightning and wind.
Yuma steadies himself, blood dripping from his lip, his body bruised but his spirit unwavering. He raises his hand, twisting reality to slow the storm's approach. But Achlys's new form is immense, nearly overwhelming Yuma's control. The sky itself seems to bend to the will of the Demon Lord.
"I am the storm incarnate," Achlys booms, his voice echoing like thunder.
"You cannot stop me." Yuma breathes heavily, sweat dripping down his face.
"Then I'll break the storm." He focuses all of his remaining power into his clenched fist. A glowing white sphere forms around his fist. He slams his foot into the ground, swinging his fist and punching into the sky, shattering the storm, hitting Achlys directly.
"No!" Achlys's swirling form flickers and distorts, and Yuma takes his chance. In an instant, he crosses the battlefield, fists glowing with the energy of his mantra.
"Reality Manipulation: Eruption!" yuma delivers 10 consecutive reality shattering punches. Each strike he delivers sends ripples through Achlys's form, shattering the wind and dispersing the storm bit by bit.
"NOOOOOO!!!" Achlys howls in pain as Yuma's final punch lands squarely in the heart of the storm, causing a massive explosion of lightning and wind. The sky clears in an instant, the clouds evaporating into nothingness.
Achlys, now fully corporeal again, stumbles backward, clutching his chest. His left arm wasn't regenerating, half of his face gone, having been permanently turned into storm clouds, never to return.
"No… it can't be..." Yuma stands tall, his body bruised and bloodied but victorious.
"You think you're untouchable, but even storms break." Achlys collapses to his knees, gasping for breath. The storm lord's eyes flicker, his once-mighty presence reduced to a shadow of its former self.
"You… you bent the storm," he mutters, disbelief in his voice. Yuma steps closer, his gaze cold.
"I bent reality… Your storm was never going to win." With a final surge of power, Yuma reels his fist back, distorting reality around it. Throwing his fist forward and punching Achlys into the ground head first, Yuma's fist not even touching Achlys's face.
"It's over… This battle is over" The skies above are clear once more. Yuma stands alone on the battlefield, victorious but drained, as the final echoes of the storm fade into nothingness. The sky turned a bright blue with white fluffy clouds.